Finding Humanity in Sinister Spaces
by CaseyAnn'sPrecious
Summary: Sephiroth and Vincent's relationship goes back all the way to their time in Hojo's lab. They've watched each other's progress, witnessed each other's mutations and warpings, and have watched each other's humanity die right before their eyes.Full sum insid
1. A Meeting of Chance

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Final Fantasy VII. This story is meant purely for the enjoyment of others and also to hone my writing skill. There will be no profit gained from this nor am I claiming to be owner of the characters I use. The plot is the only thing that is mine.

Warning: This story will contain yaoi of the darker kind considering who it is between. It will also contain some darker minds, ones like Chaos and the after-human Sephiroth. This is the only time I am warning you.

Full Summary: Sephiroth and Vincent's relationship goes back all the way to their time in Hojo's lab. They've watched each other's progress, witnessed each other's mutations and warpings, and have seen each other's humanity die right before their eyes. Now, reunited through AVALANCHE, when the humanity in their souls has disappeared entirely, they must fight to shove to the surface what they had once found in each other back on that fateful day they met. Not an easy task when the world is crashing around you.

The prologue is meant to be the first time they meet. It is also meant to show how they were before any sort of mind-altering treatment had taken place which is why they act out of character. Please enjoy.

* * *

**Finding Humanity In Sinister Spaces**

_Prologue_: _A Meeting of Chance_

* * *

Vincent's curious eyes peeked out from the crack under his door, barely able to see anything. There were footsteps coming down the otherwise empty hallway, a light tapping that had him alert from the start. Whoever it was they were coming to see him but he didn't know why. An internal clock he had developed over the months told him that treatments weren't for another hour and food wouldn't be on the way for quite a while so why? Had Hojo, the insane man that he was, thought of something different or new for him?

The sound of the footsteps became louder as the person approached. From the noise and pitch, he figured they were about an inch or two smaller then he was. The soft tap the heel made as it made contact with the cold metal floor was unfamiliar to him. Even the boots were odd as they entered his vision. 'They're black,' he noticed, 'Black with a combat style.' And though all he could see was the shoes, he was sure that this person was definitely not a scientist. Scrambling back from the door anyway, the raven-haired man waited for the arrival of his guest. What greeted him sent a shock down his spine and stole his breath away.

The man in front of him was exotic to say in the least. With long, flowing, silver hair and mako green eyes, how could he not be? Those shimmering locks were pulled back into a back-length ponytail as they swayed against the bland clothes that Hojo provided. Even though they were nothing more than rags this, this beautiful creature made them look casual. All Vincent was able to do was stare and wonder what this man's name was.

"Mmm, Hello. What is it that you are?" The man spoke directly at him with curiosity, the wonder thick in his tone. All the dark-haired demon could do was look to the ground. What beautiful creating like the one in front of him would have an interest in him, an ugly sinful thing?

"Can you speak?" Vincent snorted. Of coarse he could speak. He just didn't feel like it at the moment. Instead, he nodded.

"I see."

An awkward silence descended as the two stared at each other in slight fascination. It wasn't too long before Sephiroth glided into the room to sit beside his new found friend.

"Do you have a name?" Again, he nodded but this time he opened his chapped lips to speak.

"Vincent," He whispered out, throat dry and scratchy. How long had it been since he'd drunk something? "Vincent Valentine."

The smile that the man beside him gave made him smile a little too. However, his curiosity wasn't sated at all. What was the name of this silver-haired man? Wouldn't it be impolite not to give it? "What…What is your name?"

The silver-haired man paused for a moment to glance Vincent over. His lips parted to speak. "Sephiroth. That is what you may call me."

It was an entrancing name, one that rolled off the tongue and gave him the impression that there was nothing ugly about the silver haired teen. Everything was extraordinary, right down to the perfect nails on the slim, boney fingers. Vincent smiled a little more but looked down to hide it. He couldn't show weakness, especially since he didn't know if this was a new assistant of Hojo's or somebody else who had come to torture him. Sure, his body was still damaged from the last time, the scar running from his fingers to his shoulder still pink and throbbing, but that had never stopped anybody before.

Another awkward moment passed before Sephiroth spoke again.

"Please, don't be so quick to assume that I am the enemy, though I can see why you would. I've been told that it's an asset to be cautious like that, Vincent, but it's not something I want to be directed at me. I myself am like you, one of the few successful human experiments. I was also told that this is the one hallway I am not permitted access. While it's probably not a good idea to be here, my curiosity has gotten the better of me. Rest assured that I mean you no harm. Besides, I don't care for rules or barriers much anyways." He shrugged as his words came to a flowing stop, letting the raven-haired man know just how much he didn't care. The demon nodded slightly but kept his face downcast. It was only fact that as soon as Sephiroth realized how ugly and unamusing he was then he would leave and never come back.

As the thought crossed his mind, the silver-haired man stood to leave, making every small feeling of contentedness he had been experiencing disappear. It wasn't like he got decent company, considering the circumstances and although he knew he shouldn't have, he had enjoyed it. That was why it surprised him when the shorter man stopped and looked back over his shoulder, tilting his head so that Vincent could hear him.

"I…I will be back. After all, I know myself how lonely it gets in here."

And then he was gone.


	2. All You Need Is Love And Warmth

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Final Fantasy VII. This story is meant purely for the enjoyment of others and also to hone my writing skill. There will be no profit gained from this nor am I claiming to be owner of the characters I use. The plot is the only thing that is mine.

Notice: Vincent and Sephiroth are still going to be a small bit out of character because, if you really think about it, this is around the time before Chaos was implanted in Vincent and around the time that Sephiroth is in his later teens. I know the timeline may be off but I haven't exactly finished Crisis Core or Dirge. It's for this reason that this may be part AU. Another thing is that Sephiroth wouldn't care that Vincent is a man and that he's in love with him because he's lived in the lab all of his life. What should gender matter to him? Other than that, enjoy.

Chapter Summary: Sephiroth finds the meaning of love and realizes that the emotions he feels with Vincent happen to fall right on the description Gast gives him. Vincent, willing to love anything in his loneliness, finds solace in knowing that he is loved and loves back.

* * *

**Finding Humanity In Sinister Spaces**

_Chapter 1: All You Need Is Love (And Warmth)_

"Vincent."

The name passed breathlessly over his lips, the freezing temperature of the room making his next exhalation form a small, white cloud. The heat wasn't running in this wing at all now, the cold winter raging outside permeating through every layer of concrete and metal to reach here. Hojo didn't even bother to mess with the thermostat when he knew that the only thing back this way was 'nothing but a stubborn, pathetic, waste of space excuse for an experiment.' The name was from the scientist himself. Emerald green mako eyes fell to rest on the red, slightly shaking ball huddled in the warmest corner of the room. With graceful and quiet motions he stalked over and placed his hand on the shaking shoulder, waiting for acknowledgement. When the pale face finally peeked up to look, he could see Vincent's chin quivering as white teeth chattered together.

The urge to crush the small man to his chest was overwhelming.

He could feel the muscles trembling under the gunman's skin in a fight to keep warm as he wrapped his strong arms around the slim shoulders of his friend. The instinct to warm the ball of a man kicked in and he found himself breathing warm, moist air down the chilled neck. In a flurry of movements, he tugged off the second jacket he had worn and threw it over Vincent's shoulders, rubbing the small arms in an attempt to create friction. A few minutes later, the raven-haired man looked up at him and the smile he was awarded with filled his own body with unneeded heat. Gently, his fingertips brushed the pale, cold cheek as his face leaned down, silver hair brushing across the red cloth wrapped around his friend's body.

He couldn't help himself any longer; He just had to kiss him.

Even though the man was cold, his lips were warm and inviting, mouth moist and tasteful. As he grazed his tongue over the bottom, trembling curvature, Vincent leaned closer to him, melting into the small touches and all the warmth they provided. Fire singed through his stomach, making certain areas uncomfortable as they tightened. The feeling was incredible, making him sigh as he pulled away. How long had it been since that day, the day he had met this enigmatic creature in his arms? Weeks? Months? There was no way to tell. What did it matter? Time didn't even matter much when he didn't want to do anything but spend every moment he had with this person. A being that, like him, had been through nothing but hell.

* * *

From the moment he had first laid eyes on him, Sephiroth had been enraptured. Those beautiful red, glowing eyes on such a soft pale face that showed him a brooding exterior caught his attention and from minutes after their encounter, he had wanted him. It was wrong, he knew. Hojo had shown him that these sorts of attachments were useless, stupid. The scientist had made him see just how pointless love was, how utterly ridiculous it was to place that kind of trust in someone. People hurt people everyday for love, by love, and with love so what was the point in placing your heart with a being whose main nature was to crush it the instant they held it in their hand? It was odd, disturbing even, because, well, Hojo had shown him all of these facts by giving him all of the video feed in his archives on the relationship between the scientist Lucrecia Crescent and the Turk, Vincent Valentine.

In his teenage mind, Sephiroth could only comprehend it as another valuable life lesson to be drilled into his head (and this one without the drilling). He had watched, engrossed in the flickering images, as the man and the woman formed a fleeting relationship. It was different, considering it was the only thing he got to watch on the big screen in the computer room. Each day, after treatments, Hojo would sit him down in front of the television and he would watch some of life's most valuable lessons unfold before his eyes. Trust. He watched as every single time Vincent did something that merited trust, the woman, Lucrecia, would crush it and betray him. When the Turk professed his love, she would run, saying she was sorry all the while. Each time, he saw the emotions play out on Vincent's face, hurt, anger, and frustration. It disheartened him, wishing the infernal woman would make up her mind and just go with the man. He couldn't figure out what there was that she found wrong with the gunman until the last tape, the one that made him loathe her for what he saw her to be. A deceitful, horrible succubus that only toyed with Vincent and couldn't see value in men for the life of her. It made the gunman visibly miserable; even he could determine that from the way the shoulders slouched when he walked to the sorrow shown purely in his eyes. When the tapes were over and there was nothing left to watch, he had gone to Hojo and inquired what had happened. The scientist, busy watching something through a microscope, had thrown him a file and told him to go back to his room.

That was what had led him to search the hallways. The file had said 'failed experiment' in big letters at the top but it never described whether the body had been disposed of and it was the first thing to tip him off, to show him that Vincent still had to be alive. Every other failed experiment had specific dates, times, and places for when and where the body had died and been disposed of. The file he read had none of that. So he explored the lab, gotten into places he probably shouldn't have been until he had found the deserted hallway. Every room there yielded nothing, doors opening to reveal the crisp whiteness of unused rooms. It had taken him an hour of opening unlocked doors and finding hidden passageways until he found the one door that didn't open under his command. When countless tries failed to work, he left to go off and try to find the key. A week passed before he had finally found one, lodged in between scattered papers in Hojo's private quarters. It was then a matter of finding the time to escape to look into the room and it was amazingly worth the effort.

When he met the gunman, he figured that he would be broken, deformed, or at least emotionally unstable. The treatments and experimentations the young man had gone through had to have at least some sort of taxing effect. Even after talking to and studying Vincent, none of that showed. The only difference in demeanor he detected was the immense self loathing that practically rolled off of the brooding man in waves. It was amazing, extraordinary, even…fascinating. Vincent captured his attention like nothing else, made him bend rules and use his skills of expert stealth in a way that no other thing was able. Using skills like these that he wasn't able to use while in the lab honed them, made them better by far. In other instances, his urge and want to see Vincent had shown him new ways to get around the mazes of corridors that Hojo called home. It had allowed him to explore and map out every hallway; every door that may be of use later when he figured it was time to escape.

There were feelings, too, feelings that stayed long after he left to go back to his own room. He couldn't put names to them because they were something he wasn't able to understand. It was akin to burning in the pit of his stomach, a hesitating touch against the keypad to the door that made him nervous and not want to go in, a vainness that made him check his appearance every time he went to see Vincent. Curious, he had gone to Hojo but the scientist wouldn't answer him. When he looked it up in the textbooks and searched through the central computer, there wasn't an answer he could find. A frustration took over, making him growl under his breath and stomp up and down the hallways until he ran straight into Gast.

He repeated all of his questions to the older scientist, frowning when all he received was a long pause. Anger shot through his body, a growl not like him sounding out through gritted teeth. He turned, about to stomp back to his room but Gast reached out and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Green eyes flashed as they looked back angrily but the scientist just smiled gently at him, steering his body so they were facing again. In a low voice, he began speaking.

"Now now Sephiroth, don't be angry with me. I merely had to think. You see, what you've described to me is a feeling everybody in the world finds themselves experiencing at some point in time. Its love, boy, but I guess you don't get that much from Hojo, do you?"

Sephiroth shook his head, hair flying out slightly and brushing against his back. He didn't even know what love was to begin with so how would he know if it was something Hojo supplied him with? The anger he had been feeling seconds ago flared down considerably. In a small voice, he looked up, confusion in his gaze, and spoke.

"Gast, I'm not even sure I know what love is. Hojo wouldn't tell me what those weird feelings were and neither would the computer so why should I believe you in saying that it's love? What do I have to compare it to when the only other person I know other than you is Hojo?" Of course, he knew Vincent but it wasn't like the two men knew that he visited the lonely man every week. "Even if you tell me what it is, what am I supposed to do with it? How do I go about making it go away?"

Gast smiled and laughed slightly, patting the teen on the shoulder. "You're not supposed to make it go away, you're supposed to make it come to fruition. Love can be amazing, Sephiroth, it can warm your heart and open up new possibilities of emotion that you didn't know you had. When you love someone and they love you back, you share a kind of relationship where that person is the one you trust wholly with you heart and your soul. That person soon becomes very special to you and you protect them in a way that you would protect yourself. It's not a duty or a mission. When it comes to the one you love, nothing becomes a duty or a mission, it's just instinct. You'll want to do things for them that make them smile, that make them happy. If you find that the one you love is sad or down, you'll be sad because they are. Their emotions will have an effect on yours. It will bloom, Sephiroth. If you're truly in love with someone, it will spread and enrapture you so much that the only thing you'll want to do is be with them, because it makes you happy. Love is one feeling to get yourself caught up in and whatever you do, let it happen. You won't be sorry if you do."

With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Gast finished his little speech and waited, watching all the confusion and assessing play out on the teen's face. It was easy because Sephiroth was like an open book. A few silent moments passed before the green eyes became solid, a curiosity lighting his eyes.

"How do you know this?" Startled slightly by the question, the scientist paused for a moment, pondering what to tell the lad.

"Let's just say that I've had a few love experiences myself in my day."

"What happened to them, the people that you claim to love?"

A sad, faraway look came into Gast's eyes and Sephiroth realized that it probably wasn't the best of questions to ask. However, he wanted answers and the man was giving them to him like they were mako injections.

"They…passed on quite a bit ago. The thing about death is that when the one you love dies, you never forget them and you never really get over them. You can move on, find somebody else, but it's not really the same. When you find yourself in that sort of position, I think you'll understand but I doubt it will happen any time soon."

Sephiroth nodded, satisfied with his answers and turned again to go down to Vincent's room this time, intent on finding out for himself whether this love business was true. He made it a few strides before Gast called back after him, the sentence making him pause in his tracks.

"So, who's the lucky person?"

Green eyes turned slowly, a glint in them that warned the scientist from asking again before the silver-haired teen was on his way. Gast smiled slightly, leaning against the wall, listening to the clicking footsteps for another few seconds before going back down to his portion of the lab, chuckling slightly on the way.

* * *

Vincent had stopped shivering a few minutes ago, content now to just relax against the warmth of Sephiroth's chest. He felt good like this, lounging on something that was so comforting when the stark walls all around seemed to scream at him, telling him to run, get out. For hours, he would stare, the metal menacing and gleaming, whispering things that he didn't want to hear. They told him of his failures, outlined how miserable his life had been, even told him how much of a monster he was, how much of a freak he was becoming. The metallic fingers of his new and shiny gauntlet flexed, scratching against the floor. It was his newest addition to the many features marring and mutilating his once normal body. He received it right before Hojo had left him to freeze to death in this hellishly cold chamber.

Sephiroth's warmth, however, changed all of that.

The arms that constantly enveloped him were tender and loving, for once not wanting to hurt. The body that pressed against his back was warm and strong, showing a willingness to protect yet comfort. The black, cotton-clothes legs that tangled in his own said, to him, 'stay, please, and if you don't, I won't hurt you.' Even the nose, nuzzling against the back of his ear, rubbing against his neck and the mouth that brushed soft lips against his shoulder told him that there was nothing to fear because he was loved. It made him feel comfortable and safe, showed him that it was here that he could actually let his weariness and weaknesses show.

Love…the word seemed awkward to him, strange even because he hadn't spoken or heard it in so long. Did that explain the agreeable comfort between the two of them? Did it explain that feeling, often spreading and coiling all the way from his heart to his stomach? The last time he had acknowledge feeling this way was the final time he had seen…her…right before she had told him such dreadful news. A dull, raw pain clawed at his chest and he clutched the cloth there lightly, frowning. Why did it still hurt him to think of her? Why couldn't he just let go?!

One of the two more elegant hands that had been resting around his waist shifted, covering his still usable one, the appendage that was clutched in his shirt. Warm breath puffed slightly against his ear as Sephiroth pressed his lips there, speaking in a low, murmuring tone.

"Does it hurt?"

Vincent shifted slightly, shaking his head no while pulling his hand away. The pain went away easily when he remembered who was sitting behind him, cuddling up against his back. With a sigh, he decided to stop dwelling on such things and to focus on the now instead.

"Is there a certain reason why you came so suddenly? It's odd to see you here two days in a row." His voice wavered slightly, betraying him. He didn't want the silver-haired man to know that he was terribly thirsty, mostly because he hadn't been fed for a few days. It showed more weaknesses, making it seem like he was dependant on simple things like water and food. Clearing his throat slightly, he tried to make it seem like it was due to not speaking for a while but he wasn't fooling anybody. That was another thing about Sephiroth he had discovered through trial and error: The guy seemed to know just how he was feeling and what he wasn't getting.

The teen nuzzled the side of his face against the smooth skin of Vincent's neck. A sigh escaped his lips, one of contentedness. "Gast was talking to me."

He paused before replying, wondering if there would be more of an elaboration. "Gast told you to come here?"

Mirth shook the body against his back, a small chuckle sounding at his ear. "That'll be the day. No, it's more like what we were talking about. I wanted to…check something."

"Are you looking for something?" He was puzzled. What would Sephiroth have to check that was in his room?

"No."

"Then what is it you were checking?"

The teen seemed to pause, wondering how best to proceed. After a few minutes of silence, he sighed, realizing that the direct approach would probably be the best. Was there really any other way to put this?

"I came here to see if all of the factors of love that Gast explained to me pertained to you and I."

Vincent sucked in his breath lightly, tensing up in the man's arms. He wasn't prepared for this yet. There was not way he could face it. What if there was only rejection in the man's heart? What if the things that Gast had told him hadn't shown up? Steeling himself, yet hiding behind his hair, he turned his head slightly, red eyes glowing and settling on the stark emerald green.

"And, uh, what did you…find?" his reply was hesitant, tentative; As if he didn't want to tread into such unfamiliar territory. The cuteness of it brought a full blown smile to Sephiroth's face. Wringing his arms tighter, he pulled the lithe body into his lap instead of between his legs. Kissing the place where he could see the pulse thrumming against the skin and wrenching a small gasp from Vincent's lips as he bit a little, the silver-haired man chuckled lightly again.

"I found that all of it was true."

He grasped the small chin between his thumb and forefinger before tugging the head to the side, initiating a small but meaningful kiss. A kiss that, when deepened, set butterflies loose in both participants' stomachs. Vincent seemed to step up and gain more confidence, pressing his lips into Sephiroth's even more. They pulled away for air, and only just for that before going at it again, and again, before a pale, scarred arm reached out to separate their upper bodies, the raven-haired man's twisted slightly to get better access. For a few seconds, he panted, and then looked up.

The sight of Vincent with his hair askew, lips kiss swollen, and mako red eyes churning with passion and lust would be something etched into Sephiroth's memory forever.

And the smile, the genuine, languid smile Vincent was graced with would, in turn, be always on his mind. Especially when those lips whispered a subtle 'I love you,'

He had no doubts that he could return it.


	3. Fading

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Final Fantasy VII. This story is meant purely for the enjoyment of others and also to hone my writing skill. There will be no profit gained from this nor am I claiming to be owner of the characters I use. The plot is the only thing that is mine.

Notice: It's the beginning of the end from here on out. If you're confused, feel free to ask questions in reviews. If the characters seem out of character, then I'll blame it on the fact that our two protagonists are now officially beginning to go insane.

Chapter Summary: Vincent realizes just how little time he and Sephiroth have before the both of them loose it.

* * *

**Finding Humanity In Sinister Spaces**

_Chapter 2: Fading_

* * *

_Knock, Knock. _**Click. **_Shuffle, _**Click,** Pause. Tmp, Tmp, Tmp. _Stop. _

Sephiroth had entered his room. He knew from the fact that he had to focus so very hard to hear the sounds of movement among the opening of the door. Hojo was never so quiet when he came by, preferring to be loud just to get under his skin. As a Turk, he had liked things other than nature to be silent. After all, it had been his job. If you weren't stealthy and fast, you were killed the very first mission. The mad scientist knew this and used it to his advantage. Admirable, if it wasn't for the fact that it was being used on him.

Past the noise, however, he knew it was his silver-haired lover by the way the room seemed to tense, the air becoming stifling. Of course, this was something that had only been happening recently. If he had to guess, it was probably due to the new, more frequent tests the man was now going through. Horrible, vile trials that were slowly automating everything the strong man did. Even the blind could see how much of a change was taking place but what were they supposed to do about it? There wasn't anything they could do to prevent Hojo from bringing those cold, mass-murdering emotions to the surface.

"I heard wind of what they've done, Vincent." The tone was soft, only slightly so. He could tell that it was teetering on indifference. Was he blocking out his emotions now, just like Hojo had taught? A raspy sigh escaped his damaged throat. What did it matter that he had heard? What was done, was done, there just wasn't any going back. He was going to suffer some more before he finally 'died', if dying was categorized under 'loss of humanity' too. Now they were just in the same boat, weren't they? Sinking together with nothing to hold onto…

He and Sephiroth were becoming despicable monsters.

Right now he was on his side facing the wall, cheek pressed against the cold metal floor for relief. The red cloak that disguised his scars and marks was pulled around his body until he was nothing but a red ball. Everything hurt. It took so much effort just to breathe that he wanted to stop and be done with it all. His left arm just…wasn't there anymore. All feeling seemed to stop and the wrist and honestly, he didn't know what was wrong with it. He suspected Hojo had done something else to add to the gauntlet that was there previously. To speak the truth would be to say that he was afraid to look. Later, out of necessity, he would but just not now. For god's sake he couldn't even keep his eyes open long enough to focus properly!

Leather creaked behind him. Hojo had given Sephiroth a new set of clothing after he had grown to the right sizes. It painted a very sexy picture, one he wanted to look at but couldn't find the strength to try. It was a wonder he could even think about such things…The leather shifted again. It felt like the other had sat down but there really was no telling.

"Can you move?" He didn't so much as twitch, hoping that that was a good enough answer.

"Then I presume you cannot speak, either." Silence.

A tired sigh reached his ears. Something 'thumped' against the wall. A silent moment passed before the silver-haired man began to speak. Vincent would listen…it was the only thing he was capable of.

"We're in a bad position, Vincent. I'm beginning to feel not quite like myself anymore and you…" He paused. "Well, you're looking more and more like a ghost every day. I heard what they'd done to you this morning and I came down as soon as I could. I wanted…to warn you, too. These changes in me…I'm fighting them as much as I can but I guess I'm too weak." He laughed, hollow and without humor. "Who'd have thought?"

The leather shifted again. "Vincent…When it shines through, every now and then, I get horrible thoughts. I see sickly, gory images and battlefields bathed in blood. Blood I'd spilt! I bear witness as my hands murder countless, nameless people and I enjoy it. Vincent, I enjoy it! The blood and their crumbling bodies send delicious shivers and a pleasurable heat down my spine!" Sephiroth's voice seemed to rise in pitch as he spoke, a tone short of hysterical. For a moment, the silver-haired man composed himself, as if fighting off the hysteria within rather than just with his voice.

"It feels primal, like its instinct but I don't want it if that's what I'm becoming. Especially if it comes after you, though it's only a matter of time. I'm warning you, Vincent, when it comes around here, lurking like the beast it is, and uses my face to trick you, run. Don't let it lay a disgusting, filthy hand on your body. You are mine, not that monster's play toy. I won't have him getting his dirty little way. Promise me, in some silent way, that you won't let it have you because if it does…I fear the worst. You have no idea of what it dreams to do to you, of the images it shows me as it gets stronger. I just barely refrained from coming down here after my last mako treatment and filling its desires. It's lurking beneath the surface now, waiting for the moment I have my back turned so that it can fully take over. It's almost here…Vincent; we're just…running out of time." His hair rustled slightly. A hand was playing with it. Shivers rolled down his spine, both at what the man had said and at the ministrations he was receiving.

Was dooms day really that close for Sephiroth, too? Power just seemed to be slipping through both of their hands so quickly. Even now he could feel the primal beast chaos pushing and shoving itself to the surface. When the intelligent creature failed, he would whisper sinister and dark things at the back of his mind until he was clutching at his head for it all to stop. He didn't like it at all, hating the way it made him feel vulnerable and weak, despising it for being able to manipulate him to think certain ways. It whispered things to him as he imagined the future, pulled the images until they were to his liking and forced him to believe them or watch his lover die. The two of them battled hourly now when previously it have only been daily, a sign that things were getting much, much worse. Even though it only wanted control of his body, Vincent wasn't about to give that up. It was the only freedom he had left.

"Y..ou..re…rig..h..t." A new pain flared through him as he tried to speak any more than those few syllables. Sephiroth was right, though. It was almost here. The clock was ticking, the sand was rushing, hell, the door was knocking its way down! He found it to be a good thing, though, that his body was in agony and his thoughts were so solidly bent on only Sephiroth. Chaos stayed planted in the back of his mind the entire time, not wanting to take control of a body in such pain and Vincent payed him no mind. It gave him an edge, an upper hand. If he kept himself in a state that the demon didn't find satisfying to his tastes, he would hold off on fighting for control. It was painful, yes, but it definitely gave him more time to think something up.

Sephiroth's problem, however, was a different story. There was nothing he could do to stop the seemingly incorporeal being that was prodding the silver-haired man into annihilation. There was nothing it didn't want, making it impossible for his method to work for the swordsman also. It didn't mind a pain-ridden body. It didn't care if Sephiroth had been marred or hurt. It wouldn't matter even if all of his hair was cropped short and dyed an odd color as long as it had something to control. He could tell that it was only playing with his angel for the time being, as if dangling something shiny in front of one of the lab creature's faces and waiting for it to get riled up for an attack. The inhuman beast knew that that would be one of the only weak points it would find.

So if he couldn't fix it, or postpone it, what was he going to do?

Low thrums made his head throb dully, making him groan. A shockwave of pain swept through his chest. It wasn't agony yet, thank Gaia, but it still hurt. Another one followed it a few seconds later, and another, until his head became just one center of dull ache. He tried to block it out, but Chaos chuckled in his odd, demonic way. It wanted something. He could tell by the way it perched there, baiting him to talk and say something but instead he blocked it out. If the parasite wanted to speak it could speak and he would listen if he wanted to.

Chaos spoke, but his lips never moved. He had mastered telekinesis from the moment he was born. _"I could heal you, if you wanted."_ It whispered, voice smooth and deep, surprising for a beast of its nature. The raven-haired man suspected that it would be rough like gravel or raspy, like his voice used to be before Sephiroth started bringing him something to drink regularly. The smoothness startled him but he didn't have the will to show it outwardly.

It continued to speak in whispers to him, in that warm, pleasurable tone that would make any person want to relax. Any person but him.

"_I could, you know. I can take over your body and heal every bone and ache. Of course, you'd have to surrender to me and give up. You want to get rid of the pain, right? Don't you want to finally be out of the agony of this life? Come now, Vincent, let me out and we'll rip this cell to shreds. We'll tear into the throats of every mindless scientist in this place and taste our freedom once and for all. Just let me out, Valentine, that's all you have to do."_

It continued on like that for a few moments but eventually, he blocked it out. There was no place for thinking like that, especially when all the beast thought about was personal gain. It wouldn't benefit him, it would hurt Sephiroth, and it would only kill people.

But most of all, it would hurt Sephiroth.

Amazingly enough, their conversation only lasted a few seconds. During that time, the silver-haired man's hand stayed in his hair and toyed with the strands, practically petting him. He liked it and Sephiroth knew that. The attention continued for a few more minutes until the man shifted again, leaning his arm over to rest on the other side of his body. Silver hair spilled over his red cloak in a cascade of shimmering silk, something he just had to open his eyes a sliver to see. With care, the still-smaller man leaned his head up and placed a cool kiss on his cheek. The gesture was soft and tender, something that was becoming rarer with each and every future visit. A sense of impending doom suddenly overcame him. His breathing became slightly hitched which sent horrible shockwaves down his ribcage but he didn't care. When Sephiroth went to move back, to leave, He reached his good hand out and latched onto the man's sleeve. Pure agony ripped through his senses and he grit his teeth to fight back the scream building in his throat. The knuckles of his hand turned white with the effort of holding on.

Immediately, Sephiroth paused, looking at him with mild curiosity and a hint of sadism concealed by shining emerald. The feeling came from seeing the pure helpless, defenseless nature that the raven-haired man was currently going through. That and the pain that was flashing so beautifully through the normally calm features. The contortions of the normally calm gunman's face, the obvious look of pain and suffering, sent a ripple of want and pleasure down his spine. Vincent, who was now trying to catch his breath and squinting under the harsh lights coming from the ceiling, didn't see it fully until the trickster's face was an inch from his. His heart skipped several beats in rapid succession.

"You poor, fragile thing," It said, voice thick with the hints of cruelty that were now pure throughout the cat-like eyes. The black pupil had become a mere slit now, the green outshining everything else. Those eyes…They made him cringe back in slight apprehension, made him recoil in fear. They spoke of a violent nature, showed him that all it wanted to do was hurt him, put him through more agony than he was already experiencing. It wanted to break him, wanted to watch him fall…

But then it was gone and Sephiroth was clutching at his chest. The skin under his hands rose and fell in a rapid tandem. He had won control back, for now, but it was only a testament to the little time they still had left. The emerald green eyes stayed shut for a few minutes and Vincent used that time to compose himself and rest his eyes. When he opened them and glanced over, the sight broke his heart. He melted.

There was such sadness upon the face of his angel that it tugged hard on his heartstrings. The emotion pooled from the bright, intelligent orbs and crept in wet trails down his cheeks, mingling with perspiration briefly before hitting the floor. A pale, scarred hand still clutched, deathly tight, at the now calm chest. Mesmerized, he watched. Chaos stayed silent as his ruby eyes stared at the other, noticing every subtle shift, every twitch, right down to the way the man finally rubbed at his eyes. It seemed like he didn't even realize what his eyes were doing. Vincent found the obvious confusion endearing, all thoughts of fear completely forgotten.

Seconds later, his ears twitched of their own accord. Whispers, some intelligible, some blurred, floated from somewhere in the room. A closer look at the composing swordsman showed that the source of the noise was him. All he could hear were bits and pieces, his name floating through the conversation periodically.

It appeared that Sephiroth was talking to himself.

The mere thought of such insanity in his silver-haired angel sent a shiver down his spine. He honestly didn't want to think any more about how bad the swordsman was becoming.

Turning his full attention back on the bigger picture, Vincent's eyes locked immediately onto the cold, determined face that was looking straight at him. For a split second, the fear gripped at his chest once more, but then he looked closer. The man was merely blocking out his emotions again, steeling himself for something difficult....

This wasn't going to be good.

"Vincent…" The tone confirmed his suspicions. Not an ounce of sadness or depression marred his voice. An artificial calm overlapped everything else that the man may have been feeling. The gunman closed his eyes and scrunched up his face, as if to block out the world.

It didn't work. Sephiroth's cold and calculating tone still reached him.

"I'm saying goodbye. This is the last time I will be able to see you before…well, you know."

No. This wasn't happening. It wasn't happening at all. Sephiroth was not leaving him because of something he couldn't control. This was not going to be something like what had happened with Lucrecia. He wouldn't let this happen. He had had enough of being left behind for dead, of being left to rot through the rest of his life because nobody could stay. It was enough, god _dammit!_

The silver-haired man continued to speak but his mind was in frenzy. No more words reached his hyper-sensitive ears which were now ringing so loud that it made him cringe. The pain became small flares and died out easily when faced with the emotional turmoil his mind was going through. His uninjured hand reached up to tug at his hair, a habit he formed when fitted with Chaos.

"Stop that. I'm leaving you regardless of what you do to yourself."

Ruby eyes shot up and glared, venom filling his tone.

"It's not like you to run like a coward, Sephiroth. What, you can't deal with one little voice inside your head? You're willing to just up and leave your life because of your _fucking insecurities!_" Oh, he was mad. The anger built and built upon itself until he could take it no longer. His entire hand went numb from clutching it into a fist too hard.

Sephiroth…twitched.

"Stop it, Vincent. You and I both know that this is the best option for us. I don't want to be here anymore than you do when that…beast…takes over my body and you know that. You felt the fear. Do you want to be living that for the rest of your life? It's just best that I get out of here and the faster the better."

It made sense; he just didn't want it to happen. "Don't run from me, Sephiroth. I could care less what the hell happens. Can I not take care of myself? I was a Turk, I know damn well how to fight and you know that. There's no reason that you have to leave, I can fend for myself." The Silver-haired man laughed coldly in his face.

"Vincent, you can't even move right now."

The gunman turned his head to let black hair cover his face. "Even so, I will heal."

"And what happens until then? You're just going to let it have you? I thought you promised me that you wouldn't let that happen."

"I didn't say a damn thing close to that."

"Because you wouldn't talk!"

The room fell silent.

All the feelings of previous dread and hurt seemed to clutch at him now more than ever, constricting his vocal chords so much that he couldn't speak. Sephiroth stood tall and impressive, face cold with a small spark of sorrow that he couldn't seem to completely conceal. It flickered like a candle's flame, delicate and fragile as if flailing in the wind. It was difficult to understand why exactly it was there at all but he was smart. He figured that, considering how the both of them were still in such a state of affection for each other that it was smothering, it was hard, even for the unemotional man in front of him, to cut off that connection. The hell if he could do it without batting an eyelash.

After a small stare down between the two stubborn men, Vincent's shoulders reluctantly slumped. He had lost this argument, that wasn't hard to see. Sephiroth was going to leave no matter what.

"I'm going, Vincent."

"…Hn." He wouldn't cry or show weakness. If he wanted to go, he could go. There was no use in trying to stop him. A groan escaped his lips as he leaned back to lie on his side. Maybe the pain racking his body would knock him out soon…

Sephiroth, however, paused before fleeing through the door. One last sentiment wouldn't hurt. This would be his goodbye, after all. His feet patted softly as he walked over, the leather encasing his legs creaking slightly as his tall body crouched down. Long, slender fingers brushed the ebony locks from Vincent's pale face as he leaned closer, lips becoming mere inches away from the gunman's.

"I love you, Vincent Valentine. Never forget that."

And with a swish of the door, he was gone forever, leaving behind just the scent of leather and shampoo.


	4. A Moment of Insanity

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Final Fantasy VII. This story is meant purely for the enjoyment of others and also to hone my writing skill. There will be no profit gained from this nor am I claiming to be owner of the characters I use. The plot is the only thing that is mine. I also do not own the Joker quote. It's the one from The Dark Knight.

* * *

**Finding Humanity in Sinister Spaces**

_Chapter 3: A Moment of Insanity _

* * *

"_You see, madness is like gravity. All it takes is a little push." _

* * *

The computer light flickered in the darkness, the rays of light illuminating his face with its pale blue glow as his eyes probed the two figures on the screen. The sentiment displayed between them disgusted him. As his weapon, his prodigy, crouched down to have one last touch of his all-time enemy, a sneer curled his lips. How utterly sickening…

Yet oh so interesting.

Was every being with the Crescent bloodline drawn to the brooding Valentine? Or was it merely that 'like mother like son' connection? Was Sephiroth drawn to the beautiful features or the aura of taintedness that seemed to float around the gunman like a second skin? Was it a need for comfort, a need for love? Or was it just a pleasant distraction from the harsh environment encasing them all? Did he think the other physically appealing in such a way that it was sexual? Was there feeling behind each emotional look, behind each meaningful touch?

…So many questions, so little time.

Switching the monitor off, the scientist turned and stalked over to the door, snatching up his ring of keys as he went. Maybe he would pay the beast a visit and rub his victory in a bit more, just to see if there would be as much of a reaction as he received the last time he had stolen a loved one from the ex-Turk. A smirk curved his features as the thought rolled around in his mind. That had been thoroughly amusing, what with the raven-haired man stuck in a permanent cycle of constant rage and hurt. Taunting him had brought about such a nasty fight, (one that he had taken a week to fully heal from), but it was still worth every scrape. Being able to toy with the man's emotions like that had been so intriguing that he now did it as often as he could, thus bringing about the bulk of his most valuable projects.

It had become the best, though, when Sephiroth was thrown into the mix. He knew that if he told the teen not to go somewhere, the defiant brat would. In fact, he knew this very well, as it had worked multiple times already in the past when he decided that he wanted to randomly test the child's dexterity skills. The only thing he had to say was that the hallway was off limits to all personnel at the time and the curiosity kicked in. Within a day, the boy had tried to break through the code several times, each attempt documented and filed away accordingly. By the time the next week had rolled around, his prodigy had already spoken to Valentine and their conversation had been recorded. In fact, all of their conversations and meetings were, just as he had documented Lucrecia's relationship with the now ex-turk. Eventually, somehow, it would aid in his research of emotional destruction. His goal was to create perfect soldiers, after all.

The tap of his feet on the solid floor echoed down the empty hallway before he stopped in front of a door marked with nothing but a 'V' in the left corner. It had been her idea to mark the cells with the name of the creation it contained and he never did shake the habit after her death…Hmm…He'd have to work on that. The passkey card reader blinked green as he slid his card through, the door opening with a mechanical hiss. Nothing in the room seemed to move as he took his first steps foreword, eyes roaming the area. Against the wall was where he found the gunman but it was hard to determine if the man was even breathing, let alone alive. The smirk that twitched at the corners of his mouth widened as he took in the aura of angst practically radiating off of the body not three feet away.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

When the door slid shut, he didn't cry. As the sound of boots hitting the floor faded down the hallway, he didn't shed a single tear. When everything became, once again, deathly silent, he didn't ball or sob or do anything of the sort.

No, all he did was lay there.

For what seemed like hours and hours on end, he stayed propped up on his side, staring at nothing but the wall. Time passed, yet he couldn't feel it, couldn't tell whether or not it was daylight out or if the moon was up. When dinner came, his only meal of the day, he didn't budge. After a while his strength fully deteriorated until he could no longer shift his arm to keep it from falling asleep. His side lost feeling quickly. Sometimes, he wondered if it was even there anymore. Eventually, he stopped caring how his body felt and ignored it all together. In this cell, locked in this small room, he wanted to rot away to nothing.

Vincent Valentine had finally wanted to die.

This feeling, the hard-hurting thump in his chest, the migraine that screamed through his mind, the soul-tearing yearn for that one person, had never been like this after Lucrecia had betrayed him. Not once after seeing her for the last time did he want to just put a gun to his head and fire. No, after that he had wanted to live just so he could murder the evil scientist who had turned her against him. He had wanted to escape, wanted to see the sun, the fields, the world, her face! Just once more. The need to get out, to get away, had overwhelmed him to the point that he actually tried a few times, obviously unsuccessfully.

Now, though, that need to run had crumbled under the tidal force of pain and sadness clutching at his chest. The feeling seized his nerves and surged through his muscles, making it impossible to move. His body had healed already, the bones mended and sores soothed but nothing budged him from his spot. Not even chaos, who had become docile in the silence, could make him so much as twitch. For now, all he did was listen to the yelling, hoping it would eventually drive him over the edge. After so many hours of listening, though, all he was getting was an even worse migraine.

When Hojo appeared out of the blue later that day, it surprised him. He didn't show it, nor did he move to greet the bastard, but he was surprised. The soft footfalls of the madman's feet drew closer until he stood only a foot away. Vincent hoped that he would assume him dead and go away but such was not the case. Instead, he paced and spoke, a biting tone in his voice.

"You…" He paused, gathering his thoughts and adding sort of sneering effect to his voice that made the gunman's hairs stand on end. Somewhere, chaos shifted to alertness. "You have been nothing but a thorn in my side, Valentine. That changes today." The soft footfalls started once more, echoing back and forth off of the walls. If it was his guess, he's say that the scientist was pacing.

"You see." He paused once more, a common thing nowadays as the older man spoke. "I do believe you've fully served your purpose. You've been guinea pig to my tests and projects for a year now. I've modified and enhanced your body to accommodate another person and friends, used you for research material and proposals, and even got on the good side of some charitable donation companies."

This time, he paused for good and a low, short laugh escaped his throat as he reminisced through the memories. "Though of course, you were most important to the Jenova project. Tell me, what do you think of my boy's new attitude?" That leering smirk settled itself upon his lips permanently as he peered through wire-rimmed glasses to the stiff lump of man that hadn't so much as twitched since his entry. Now, some of the shoulder muscles were clenched and shaking.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" Taking a few steps closer toward Vincent's head, he kept up his speech in that condescending tone. "Sephiroth has become my perfect soldier, though and through. He fights like the best there is, outmaneuvers even the smartest computers, even comes up with such complicated war strategies that it's difficult for me to follow. Of course, I'm not much fond of war at all and that contributes to my confusion but that's beside the point. He's perfect, invincible with Jenova in him and calculating without the emotions that plague every other creature on this earth. I must say, it wasn't much of a struggle to take those with you here to help."

Out of sight of the raven-haired man, Hojo's smirk became downright wicked. This was even more fun than he though it would be.

Vincent, however, didn't think their conversation was as amusing. A thrum began to pulse behind his ears as he listened, the anger beginning to build steadily. Chaos surged to the front of his mind in waiting. Hojo continued to pester and mock him in such a sardonic way this it made his stomach roll. How dare he talk of Sephiroth as if he were nothing but an item? How dare he think that he could lord over such a beautiful, carefree creature? The way Hojo thought he could control something as powerful as his love was even more of a sin than he in his entire life had committed! It was despicable, disgusting even! The thought of it made the anger inside him ignite to a level he had never before felt. The cackling laugh of the beast in his head rang through his ears and he grit his teeth to keep from growling at the pathetic excuse of life behind him. If he had had the energy, he would have attacked him on the spot. If he were just able to move, he would rip the man to shreds in less than a second. Dammit! Why did he have to be so weak right now?

The anger continued to build until Chaos chuckled deeply, the sound resounding through the inside of his mind. The beast's deep, raspy voice began to pulse in his ears and control his mind. It whispered of tearing Hojo to shreds, just as he wanted, it spoke of getting revenge and fleeing this place, of getting Sephiroth and running to freedom. He wanted to. Gaia, how he wished to spring up, to kill, to run! He would of, if the energy were in his muscles but without the vital sustenance and nutrients his body needed, there was no possible way to do it.

_/Let me out, Valentine. Just this once and I'll make it worth your while. Let the anger surge through your veins and thrive in your heart. Let your mind go wild with the emotions you've bottled up for so long. Let every muscle in your body burn with the need to rip apart your enemies and escape from this wretched hole. Manifest me with your body, let your emotions control you, and together we'll burn this hell to the ground. Do it now, let me out! /_

Vincent, swayed by the passion in the demon's voice and the anger already burning through his body, complied and, for the first time, willingly let control of his body slip right through his fingers. His nerves registered the pain briefly before the anger rushed through to block it out. From his own eyes, he watched what transpired as if it were just a movie and not his life.

Chaos surged forth immediately in triumph and his body seemed to crumple in on itself. The snapping, twisting, and grinding of bones and flesh alerted Hojo that something was happening to the gunman before a blinding flash of white-red filled the room. Nothing but a chuckle crept forth from the epicenter when his vision slowly cleared. Through spots of color, the scientist was shocked to find that the very heart of his Omega project had once more surfaced, and this time, it seemed as if Valentine had been fully willing. Hm…He'd have to mark this down on the hidden file in the computer database.

Turning on his heel, he moved as if to step from the room but the demon had other ideas and used a clawed hand to shove him back against his escape route. A sly, curved smile graced the beast's lips as golden eyes glowed and pierced through his gaze. A quick glance downward showed that he had not been able to fully transform completely, Valentine's body remaining with Chaos-like attributes. Hojo sighed in boredom and shifted his glasses.

"You never learn, do you?" In an attempt at freeing himself, the scientist quickly drew the penknife he kept in his pocket and thrust it towards the gunman's stomach. Chaos, smirking so much that it showed his fangs, blocked deftly and tossed the man aside as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll. Towering over the scientist sent a surge of pride through his stomach. This was right, this was how it should rightly be, his tormentor on the floor while he, the superior being, stood. Though he could do without the feeble human limitations his host's body exhibited, such as the dizziness of standing without energy.

"I think it's you who never learns."

And he lunged with claws extended. They tore through cloth and skin like a hot knife through butter but that wasn't enough to satisfy his desires. A bone or two cracked under the force of his hands as they grabbed and squeezed the thin and gangly limbs. In an effort to see the man scrambling to regain his wits, he smashed the glasses that sat upon the scientist's face under the boot on his foot. Laughing darkly, he punched a few teeth from his mouth. Spitting them to the floor in a puddle of blood, Hojo struggled to stand or at least sit. Every blow from the powerful experiment knocked him back a foot or so until he finally hit the wall. Golden eyes glowed in pleasured amusement as he felt his body leave the ground via a clawed hand latched around his throat. In mere seconds it cut off his air supply and he could feel the rush of unoxygenated blood pounding in his ears. He didn't panic, though, because he knew that that was exactly what Chaos wanted. It was what any vile enemy wanted, of course: to see their foes struggle before they died.

Well, he wasn't going to do either, anyway.

In a flash of a movement, he drew a syringe from his coat pocket and sunk it into Chaos' arm before he was able to react, a feat he had learned long before the demon had been in his possession. In fact, it was quite ironic that Lucrecia had taught it to him: Divert the attention, wait for the gleam in the eye, and strike. So simple and successful…

He dropped to the ground as the beast jumped back and growled at him. With a smirk he caught his breath and stood, his left arm dangling broken at his side. His footfalls echoed with a bit of a stagger against the wall as he walked once more to the door, limping slightly, and looked back over his shoulder. Chaos had retreated to the corner where he was starting to exhibit the effects of the painful drug injected into his veins, a dosage powerful enough to work even with mako systems constantly repelling it. He was seething, breathing heavily as he glared with piercing eyes at the scientist. Baring his fangs slightly, he growled, making him chuckle as he opened the door and set one foot out into the hall.

"And here I thought you were an intelligent creature." Shaking his head, he let the door slide shut behind him and began limping in the general direction of his office.

When Chaos roared, it shook the walls and brought a sense of sick satisfaction to his pride. The smile curving his lips stayed present the entire day as he worked and updated the computer database.

* * *

"That bastard! I should've killed him when I had the chance!" Chaos, (still in control of the host body), paced back and forth, taking his violent rage out on the wall. A deep gouge was created as he swiped his entire hand down it and growled, angry that he had been tricked. When his vision became blurry with the effort, though, he stumbled to the ground, panting a bit too heavy for his liking. A gnawing pain began shooting up his arm from the injection site and he couldn't help but growl lowly once more. Placing his hand over it only seemed to make it worse. As the spikes traveled up his arm and down his back, he convulsed in an undemonly way that just infuriated him more. Dammit! He would have his revenge soon!

The pain slowly crept its way through his body until he could no longer control the movement of the body. His limbs suddenly curled up into a seizure as his muscles shook uncontrollably. Vincent watched and felt with horror on his features as the acidic drug slowly started torturing his nervous system. When the world started to dim out, desperateness took over and he cried out in defiance.

But the roar from Chaos that tore through the building silenced his words.

* * *

Sephiroth, however, didn't hear any of it.

As the army truck sped over the gravel road, he watched the dirt trailing behind them and instantly his heart cried out for Vincent. Though he wasn't in control of his body much anymore, he wanted to jump from the caravan and run at top speed back to the other man's arms. The biting, acidic tone that his voice had become chuckled lightly at his wishes. It thought he was ridiculous, though that he was stupid and weak for wanting someone like he did. He, in turn, thought that the parasite was just jealous because Vincent was something he would let no one else have, including another form of him. The angry glare that reflected through the truck's window back at him made him smirk. That just proved his point.

"The moment I get the chance, I'm loosing you," was the angry remark he received before being shut out from communications and sight to the outside world. With a sigh, he leaned back in his own mind and tried to get some sleep.


	5. A Small Moment of Peace

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Final Fantasy VII. This story is meant purely for the enjoyment of others and also to hone my writing skill. There will be no profit gained from this nor am I claiming to be owner of the characters I use. The plot is the only thing that is mine.

* * *

**Finding Humanity in Sinister Spaces**

_Chapter 5: A Small Moment of Peace_

* * *

"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire." Winston Churchill

* * *

It seemed that it was physically impossible for him to care about where he was going.

It wasn't like he didn't try. With the curiosity of cat he had glanced through the cracks in the door to look at the fields and plains they were traveling by. He had attempted, in vain, to recognize the small shacks and buildings the vehicle rumbled by and had realized that this was completely unknown territory. He didn't know where he was, or where he was going. Even the few, sparse people who traveled along the road looked unfamiliar and alien. They wore strange, tattered clothing and had a roughish appearance to their skin, dirt and dust seeming to cling to them. His nose wrinkled with slight distaste at this and vaguely, he wondered why. What was wrong with them that made them disgusting, repulsive even? They were human and so was he…Was he?

His head throbbed. It continued, too, persistent and mind-numbing until he couldn't help but rub at his forehead. He growled to himself, low, nothing but a mere rumbled of his chest, and was rewarded with a more painful stabbing to his brain. No, he didn't think he was much of a human anymore. Humans didn't have thoughts like him, didn't have a voice that sneered and mocked everything they did. The lucky bastards didn't have some _thing_ crawling its way into their personalities and plundering the control from their bodies. They didn't wake up every morning, wondering if they were going to be in command of the body that day or if they were going to be sitting in the mind, watching with horror as the body practically tortured everything they'd ever loved. His helplessness was aggravating. Hojo should have taught him _something,_ some way to fight back against such intrusions. What did the scientist gain from all of it?

That thought had been bouncing around in his mind for quite a while, actually. What was the point? What was the man gaining from this cold persona? The only thing _that_ was good for was war. Pure, unedited, gory slaughter, but if he had any say in the matter, that would be out of the question. He refused to harm another when he had been harmed himself. Why should he subject others to pain and suffering when all he wanted to do was live in a peace? He would have none of it; he wouldn't look at it, wouldn't acknowledge it, and wouldn't participate in it.

A cold laugh pervaded his thoughts like a punch to the stomach, sucking the air from his lungs in a way he hadn't thought possible.

/_But you don't have a say in the matter, do you, pest? /_

_Pest?_ He scoffed, taking in a deep breath to counter the moment he had seemed weak. There was no room for weakness now. Weakness would provide gaps and holes in his defenses, spaces for the monster to get in and take over. He didn't want that. He never wanted that thing to take control of his body ever again. He would see to it that it wouldn't happen, even if he had to take some form of drastic measure to do so.

Another laugh pierced through his head, cold and sharp, always succeeding in making his temples throb to such a painful point. Pain was weakness, weakness he refused to show.

_/It's amusing to think that you could really get away with attempting to off yourself when you're in my presence. What is the point? You know and have experienced the fact that I can take your body over at any moment if I so chose. Your fighting it is a mere distraction to my boredom. Though I suppose, if you did succeed in doing away with yourself, it would rid me of the annoyance that is your thoughts. / _It laughed again. It was always laughing, always mocking him. He grit his teeth in annoyance, his eyes narrowing as if he could really glare at it, though he knew it was futile. That thing felt no emotions, had no regrets, what was the point in trying to get it to back off?

There was that question again: What was the point? Why?

Vincent. Vincent was the point. Vincent was exactly why. If he could get the beast to back off, then it wouldn't harm the gunman on the off chance that they met up sometime later in life. No, he shouldn't think that. As soon as he was able, he was going to go back for the man. There was no reason for him to escape, to be free, when his other half was still back there in that accursed place. He didn't want to even imagine what was going on, what Hojo was going to do to the man now that he laid no more claim on him. Months ago, he had finally stood up to the wicked man, had set his foot down and claimed the ex-turk as his. With such a fierce determination that he hadn't been aware of possessing, he had demanded that 'treatment' on the raven-haired man cease at once. Of course, not one to be bossed around by his experiments, Hojo had just given him that odd sneer-smile look, as if he knew something that only he would ever know. Angry, he had stormed off, only to visit the gunman the next day to find not a hand, but a gauntlet in its place. It was just laughable how he had thought that the previous anger was all he was capable of. Such a rage had consumed him at that time that all he could remember was the red that clouded his vision.

It was even more amusing to think that he could ever really own something. He had nothing to call his own; no belongings to say were his. It was just him and his body, but that was slowly being taken over, too. He was nothing, and as the realization sunk in, he laughed.

He was nothing, nobody. There was no person or belonging to show his significance in the world. If he were to jump from the truck and disappear right this second, nobody would know, nobody would care. Why should they? He hadn't done anything to merit being remembered. He hadn't saved lives or...or...

He couldn't even think of anything else! How pathetic was it that he couldn't do anything to stand out in a crowd, to be recognized? The realization was almost as agonizing as the knowledge that the only person who would care or even notice him was probably going to be dead in a couple of weeks. What was the point? He wanted to cry and scream in frustration at the same time, but that was a weakness, wasn't it? Instead, he remained stony and impassive, quickly covering up the laugh that he had let slip. There was no need for weakness here. He was strong, stronger than most. If he so chose, he could carve himself a future and make himself stand out. There were a multitude of things he could do with his life that would make people realize who he was. Yes, there was no need for him to get worked up and let the beast have another opportunity at control. There was no need for him to make such a big deal out of it. So what if there wasn't a point? He would make one. From this moment on, he would find a purpose to live for, to strive towards.

He refused to be less than just one memory.

With a sputtering rumble and a puff of exhaust, the truck stopped.

* * *

He couldn't….He couldn't…

Wh..What? What wa..was i..it? Wh..at coul..dn't he d..o?

Everything. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think, He couldn't move, He couldn't see, He couldn't taste, He couldn't feel, He couldn't remember. He didn't remember. He didn't…

So what was he?

If existence was measured by memories, by the acknowledgement of people, by feelings or emotions, what was he? He was nothing, he didn't exist. But he was here, wasn't he? He had that distinct feeling of being, but there was nothing. It may have been that his mind was jumbled and fuzzy, hectic, as if it had quit and was trying to repair itself, but he wasn't able to acknowledge that. He wasn't able to acknowledge anything of the sort. He was just there, alone in his nothingness and dead in the sense of everything human. It could be said that maybe he was floating, that things were white or black, but he wouldn't have been able to perceive it. His perceptions were odd, were off. At first there was nothing, but then something happened. It was similar to a humming, a pleasurable, and warm feeling that emanated from _somewhere. _Wherever it started, it spread, until he was aware that he was indeed here, and that he did exist.

But who was he?

'_Vincent…' Silver hair, Emerald shining eyes, creaking leather, that smile…_

_That corrupted smirk._..

In the dark confines of his cell-like room, Vincent's eyes shot wide open and a roar of pure outrage tore from his throat. _Unbelievable!_

* * *

Can anybody say teaser? Bwa! Sowee...


	6. Demon Play, Demon Out

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Final Fantasy VII. This story is meant purely for the enjoyment of others and also to hone my writing skill. There will be no profit gained from this nor am I claiming to be owner of the characters I use. The plot is the only thing that is mine.

**Finding Humanity in Sinister Spaces**

* * *

_Chapter 6: Demon Play, Demon Out_

"A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control." Proverbs 29:11

* * *

'_How could he!'_

Quick, hard footfalls resounded throughout his small dark room, the result of bare-footed feet on a metal floor. He was pacing. He couldn't help it. There was no way, after all that had happened that he could possibly lie still and bottle it all up. Another angry slash at the wall sent sparks flying into the room. There were so many slashes in it already that it was a wonder it held against his furious strength. Adrenaline pumped through his veins at alarming levels, no doubt fueled by the mako lying dormant in his system. His body shimmered constantly, shifting through half states that made him seem more monster than human.

Not that he was entirely human in the first place. Not anymore, after what that _thing_ had done to him. But this anger, this pure, uncheckable rage was not about what was done to him bodily. It was about his emotional state, his feelings that had been constantly toyed with from day one. He was done taking it. He was done being the bastard's guinea pig and pin cushion. He was going to get out of here, find Sephiroth, and run to the furthest place possible. He wanted the young man back, he wanted his love back, and he wanted something for himself for once! He wasn't going to just sit here in writhing agony while Hojo took the last bit of his world right out from under his feet.

Lips curled back like a beasts and slight fangs protruding, Vincent let out a terrifying snarl. He could smell him, could hear him as his body sauntered down the hallway as if he were on a stroll in the countryside. It made him sick to his stomach, to know that that man still lived to even walk as far as he had. He was going to kill him. He was going to sink his claws deep into that fragile human flesh and strew the man's body parts all over the pristine white wall. He would paint the place blood red and then set it all aflame. It was perfect, so perfect that just the thought was satisfying in his rage.

Man and beast melded to a certain point that it was hard to distinguish between the two. Chaos and him were in complete agreement, were wanting the same things and it was wreaking havoc on his senses. His thoughts and emotions were swirling so fast that he was just going on instinct. The beast screamed for bloodshed and he yelled back in compliance, all emotions of sadness and agony only fueling the angry haze that had become him.

When Hojo reached his door, he just about went crazy. Something so solid and sure drove him to lunge at the opening, just as Hojo was peeking his dirty head through. Vincent snarled at him and reveled in the shiver of fear he saw spike through the pathetic human's body. It was right, it felt right. Long, beastlike talons flashed forward and caught the scientist flatfooted, tearing easily through the flesh on the side of his face and casting his glasses aside. The thin metal and glass construction flew to meet the wall, lenses shattering into a million glittering pieces.

He watched shock filter upon those usually steel cold features and it satisfied something deep inside of him. His carnal urges hummed in approval, wanting more, more, more! His arm drew back, ready to slash harder, slash faster, and he grinned. A growling purr rumbled deep within his chest, but ceased when his hand slammed against nothing but cold, unforgiving metal. He howled in anger, not pain, and smacked his non-metal fist against the door, as if demanding it to open. That bastard had shut the door on him!

Muttered obscenities curled from his mouth, his voice rough and raspy, his and yet not. Chaos was so close to the surface that it was as if they were one being, one person. He was still himself, but he moved and acted like the beast, felt and thought like it. His red and gold flecked eyes scanned the doorway calculatingly, trying to find its weaknesses, but it was futile. He kicked it with his booted foot anyway before retreating back to the other wall, pacing it up and down as his bloodlust curled through his stomach, churning unpleasantly. It wanted satisfaction, gratification he could no longer give. He should have waited for the man to have at least stepped into the room. He should have been patient, been more intelligent. He had let the beast rule far too much to be any good, and for it, he had paid with the dissatisfaction rippling through his emotions.

The beast, Chaos, purred, however, and lapped at the tips of the nail-like claws. They were flecked with blood, that man's blood, and for that little bit he was happy. He had injured today, had at least marred that disgusting body once. It was good enough for now. Later, when the man came back, he would have more. He could wait until then. After all, he was much more patient that Valentine. Much, Much more patient.

With a sinister laugh, he receded violently, almost making Vincent collapse at the sudden change in his body. All at once, his form shifted, as if someone had flipped a switch. The difference was odd. It left him feeling empty, absent, as if something were missing. The bloodlust and demonly emotions that had previously been wreaking havoc with his senses were instantaneously gone, leaving him with only a dull, pathetic anger. And pain, pain he didn't yet want to think about, pain he merely bottled up quickly yet not efficiently.

Exhausted, his body buckled and he caught himself on his hands and knees, panting slightly with the effort of maintaining his resolve. He didn't like this feeling of nothingness. It felt as there was a hold in his chest, a gaping wound that would not heal like most of his bodily wounds did. Briefly, that hole had been filled with the heightened senses that Chaos evoked in him, but now, with the beast gone, it seemed even larger. His breath left him in raspy pants and he fought to bring it under control. This was pathetic. There was no way he would be as weak as to fall prey to this…this emotion!

But what was it? Was it anger, fear, guilt, loneliness, sadness, grief? It was nothing like what he had felt before. He had been betrayed, backstabbed, tortured, morphed, imprisoned, and preyed upon, but he had never felt such a soul-shredding emotion. It felt like all of his pain, his agony, his grief, wrapped into a ball or morphed into a blade that kept pounding and slicing against his tender flesh. It was mind-numbing.

With difficulty, he regained his composure and leaned back, moving up slightly to sit on his ankles. There was a headache pounding against his temples again, but that he was used to. The thrum was familiar to him, and he focused on it. He wanted that familiarity. He needed the comfortable blanket of normality to stay sane, to not let the whirlpool of emotions drag him down.

'Chaos…' He thought, wondering if the beast were slumbering, which was odd. He never wondered what it did.

_/'I am here, Valentine. You need not worry.'/_

Worry? He hadn't worried, just wondered. The hole felt like it was getting bigger and bigger, so he had wanted to fill the silence. In that brief moment when the beast had torn itself from his feeling, he had felt that pang of loneliness. When it had continued to be silent and strayed from his thoughts, he wondered if he had finally driven the thing off. But was it a comfort to know that it had stayed?

Vincent would never know.

* * *

Shocked, he stood still for a moment, blood welling to the surface of the four long gouges in his cheek, but more movement drove him to act. As Valentine slashed down again in anger, he slammed the door shut, eyes narrowing as he heard the screech of metal. The man never learned, did he?

Hojo stared at the metal of the door for a moment before finally coming to the decision he had been pondering all day. Valentine would pay for his outburst. Valentine would pay hard. An amused smirk curled his lips as he began his trek back up the long hallway. He had some work to get done, but it was all simple woodworking. Either that or he could dredge up the objects he needed from the abandoned rooms in the back. Yes, yes…that would do.

Vincent roared in the room behind him, a series of loud scrapping and banging noises making an awful sort of racket as it echoed down the hallway. Briefly, the scientists paused, wondering if the door could hold up to such a strong resolve, but then he shook his head and continued along his way. The door would be fine. He had things to do, things that needed to be done now.

Ages ago he had said he was done with Valentine, now he would finally put him to 'rest'. He had been dillydallying for far too long. What better time to silence the beast than now, when his pride was at its highest and emotions flared?

Hojo chuckled again. It would be bittersweet.


End file.
